Page 37 of These Secret Years

“I’m not available. But I figured. The way you look at me is really something.”

“I’m sorry.”

He presses his lips to my jawline. “Don’t be. Just let me suck this dick.”

I nod slightly, and he whispers in my ear. “Good boy.”

My cock gives another thump in his grip as he rearranges his body to curl himself over my lap. He sucks me past his satiny lips and deep into his throat.

Chapter Nine

SULLIVAN

Ibite back the thank you that wanted to burst from my mouth when Knight gave me that subtle restrained nod, and I swallow it down now along with the head of his pretty, fat cock. It’s better than I remembered in every single way. It’s thicker, it’s smoother, it’s hotter and saltier. It’s like silk on my tongue, smooth against my lips.

It’s all I’ve been thinking about since he set those stupid hot dogs on the table and looked at me like he’d been hypnotized.

Adrian sometimes looks at me like that, but there’s a healthy portion of disdain with his cool regard. Not with Knight. Knight is more than appreciative—even greedy. He’s desperate and worshipful, and that’s one hell of a drug. Something about this boy who’s so repressed and hiding himself better than anyone I’ve ever met letting his well-kept guard down around me when we’re all alone in the woods again makes me feel all-powerful, like he’s under a spell I had no idea I was casting.

Not only does it make me feel safer than I’ve felt in a long time, it’s hot. Searingly hot. Putting an arm around his hips, I stretch my body out on the cushion where I was sitting so I have a better angle to go down on him. Once I’m adjusted, I don’t even need to use my hand on him. He’s hard as a fucking pole, pointing straight to the upper deck. He’s got one of those heavy cocks that probably can’t get any higher than horizontal, but even without gravity pulling it down, he’s sitting at the perfect angle for me not to have to do anything too acrobatic to suck him.

And I do suck him in slow, wet, hard pulls that have him moaning with every breath.

His hands are fisted against his cushion, and I grab one of his wrists, putting his hand against my hair. He tries sliding it down to my neck, but I put it back where I want it. I want him to touch me, but only the way I want to be touched.

“Sullivan,” he whispers helplessly.

As much as I’d be absolutely down with Knight Winters fucking the hell out of my throat until I’m choking and gagging and sore, I’m not sure he’s got it in him to do it. He does, however, thread his fingers through my hair and grip my head lightly. I take that opportunity to shove my hand up his shirt and feel the star quarterback’s abs. I know without a doubt he’d let me touch him anywhere I want.

I slide my lips up and down his now slick cock, flicking my gaze up to look at him. He’s in some other world, his head tipped back, tears shimmering on his cheeks, biting his lip to death. I lick my way up and engulf him whole again. It’s not a lie to say I’ve dreamt about this. Visualized it. And tonight it feels like I’ve been practicing because swallowing him is almost nothing. Holding him in my throat for a few seconds while it spasms around him has him gasping.

Nothing against Chelsea. I like her a lot, but she doesn’t have a dick, and she’s not here. And if I can’t pin her down and fuck her until I feel like I’m back in control of my life again, then I’ll take this as often as Knight will let me have it.

“I’m gonna come,” he whines. “I’m gonna fucking come.”

He’s already coming. There’s a deep vibration beneath my hand resting low on his abdomen, and his cock jerks in my mouth. I suck my lips up to his cockhead and lick at the cum shooting out. His fingertips massage my scalp rhythmically as his rapid breaths unsettle the air above us. I linger awhile until his legs start to tense and move like he can barely stand it any longer.

I flip over, resting my head on his thigh. I look beyond his impressive cock and up at his face.

He wipes his cheeks before he runs his hands over his head. He has a ton of hair, but he keeps it very short. It suits him, though. His persistent facial scruff makes him look older than he is, but to me, all I see is the opposite of Adrian in every way, and it’s a visual I gladly drink in to replace all the rest of the shit in my head that’s trying to crowd out better thoughts.

Eventually Knight lowers his gaze, his head tilting slightly to match the angle of mine. His gaze sweeps down my face to my torso, to the achy bulge behind my pants.

He lifts his hand, but I grab it before he can touch my dick and put it firmly on my chest.

“Why not?” he asks quietly.

“Because I can take care of that myself.”

“What if I want to?”

“What if I don’t want you to?”

A frown creases his forehead, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Okay.”

I tsk. “Don’t look so sad, champ. Do you want to watch?”

I know he’ll say yes, so I’m already unfastening the waistband. I keep my eyes on his face as I reveal my own erection, just as hard as his was.